Triwizard Foolishness
by Sweetie7smiled
Summary: What if the first task of the Triwizard Tournament had not been about dragons, but something much more dangerous? Add to that the possibility of muggles tagging along, and each decision can have far-ranging consequences. No one would have guessed how much some non-standard subjects could change things. An EM AUT storyette (#6); canon loyal to both series' characters and worlds.
1. Wizard's Folly

*** * * Triwizard Foolishness * * ***

An Essentially Magical Alternate Universe Tangent Storyette

 _This takes place during the first task of HP4, at an imaginary point in time during November that is both after the events of New Moon, and yet before Bella's senior class graduation. Alternatively, the first task could have simply switched places with one of the other tasks during this time frame._

 _While I honestly believe the wizarding world's (healthy) fear of undead vampires is formidable enough that this really couldn't happen, even given their significant level of societal immaturity, the potential of the scenario was just too fascinating an idea to pass up._

* * *

 **Wizards' Folly  
**

Supremely confident in the absolute effectiveness of their illusory protective wards against the possibility of discovery or intrusion by the most _elusive_ and deadly species in the world (plus, wanting an opportunity to safely learn more about them up close and personal), instead of choosing _dragons_ as the focal point of the first challenging task of the Triwizard tournament: the panel of judges – over Dumbledore's objection, most assuredly! – has chosen to bring in _vampires_.

U-vampires, to be specific; the undead predators of the muggle world.

In order to do this without risk of mortal injury to competitors and spectators alike, the Ministry has requisitioned the creation of a thoroughly warded corral space located upon Hogwarts' grounds, designed to absolutely contain and illusorily redirect the summoned undead in such a way as should keep them from ever realizing that the odd parameters of their temporary captivity were anything but a waking dream. No human-drinking-creature – and, to be safe, no potentially accompanying muggle trapped within their grasp – would be able to sense any sound, sight, or smell originating from outside the confined space, even as the embedded spellwork fabricated all the virtual evidence necessary to present to them a pristine forest of infinite size. Regardless of how fast and powerfully any vampire might try to run their way straight through it (for instance) from any given location, in actuality they would merely end up running in circles, as the warding fooled them into believing they'd been going straight all along.

The summoning effect would be as if some unknown trigger had strangely caused each vampire to instantly transport into a different time, or alternate dimension… eventually and instantly to bring them right back again into their own world when all was said and done (even if each would reappear at a widely different location, as if falling out of the sky… having been re-summoned over a large body of water, by an invisible wizard on a broom, to ensure the summoner's safety)… in such a way as would completely obscure the underlying details of any wizarding world involvement.

It wouldn't be a long interruption from their daily lives, they assured themselves; only long enough for each u-vampire's champion to clandestinely coax them into revealing some previously undiscovered aspect of their nature. The grander and more invaluable the coaxed-out revelation turned out to be, the more points would be awarded for it (worth half of their score!)… just as the remaining points would ultimately reflect whatever relevant ingenuity, complexity, and/or quality of enchantment was used in the effort.

Finally, everything happening inside the warded arena would be instantly magnified, translated, and/or speed and frequency adjusted as necessary – to provide unambiguous feedback to every champion and judge, as well as allow for the viewing delight of all tournament spectators. For reference purposes, everything conjured up by the virtual spell in response to the mental action of any subject held within its scope, would also be visible to the audience… just with somewhat of a translucent appearance, to remind them of the fact that it was in actuality an illusory effect.

The only thing left to do was determine whether the four subject vampires (already set to be the newest, the oldest, the hungriest, and the thirstiest, _obviously_ because it would be safest to choose whichever extremes would have them at their _weakest_ ) will be brought into an area that is individually _divided_ from every other subject (allowing for the easier judging of each competitor's efforts), or communally _shared_ (making possible a much greater range of potential knowledge that might possibly be revealed).

All contingent on the council's decision.

As the final debate gets underway, it can't be ignored that the determination made today could significantly impact the outcome of the Tournament. In fact, simply due to the powerful and fearful nature of the undead, the revelations involved could leave a lasting mark on the mindset of the wizarding world; it will be important to truly consider every aspect of the choice. Dear reader, what would you advise?

Accordingly, this task will play out in one of two ways.


	2. Option 1: Flaw in the Plan

*** * * Option One: The Four Challenges * * *  
**

 **Flaw in the Plan**

Matched to each champion by luck of the draw, the vampires simultaneously summoned for them into separated virtual pens are these:

...the youngest: a 20-somethingish Latin-American female with astonishingly bright red eyes, who seems entirely disoriented by the situation;

...the oldest: a remarkably spry-looking Asian great-grandfather, sitting calmly unruffled and immobile in a perfect pose of meditation, with his eyes closed;

...the hungriest: an ashy-blond vampire having deep burgundy eyes and an uniquely translucent powdery white quality to his skin;

...and the thirstiest: an approximately 17 year old black-eyed and copper-haired youth – coincidentally the most refined and good-looking of them all – having a similarly young and very much _alive_ female muggle _human_ in tow.

All at once, the crowd is in an uproar and the desperate pressure is on (for _one_ competitor, at least). If something ingeniously brilliant isn't done _immediately_ , she's surely to become his dinner in very short order. While they all watch from the sidelines, helpless.

And Harry doesn't have the least idea what to do.

Meanwhile, as both startled newcomers pause to assess their surroundings, their conversation can be heard by everyone.

"Where are we?" the muggle girl nervously asks in growing awe and confusion and alarm, as her gaze seems to skim right along the stands of magical spectators. But of course, that's impossible – because no muggle would actually be able to _see_ anything but the pristine virtual forest they all know is playing out for them. It must be the skyline she's staring at. As well, she must be unaware of what he _is_ … because she's not acting afraid. _Yet._

The gaze of her dangerously attractive vampire guide, on the other hand, is focused straight into the illusory trees, as he apparently listens intently, sporting an expression of significant concern and confusion. "It's so quiet," he whispers, unable to reconcile the abrupt and substantial change from where they had just been. _From being surrounded by the buzzing hum of trivially mundane teenage thoughts, all of a sudden all there is for miles in any direction: are typical forest noises. How in the world did we get here? What is going on?_

In response to his statement, abruptly she's disbelieving and worried as well, still undoubtedly trapped by his hand holding hers (or so the audience observes). "What do you mean _quiet_?" she asks in a low, confused voice, meant only for him. "How can it be so quiet in a crowd?"

"A crowd?" his gaze snaps meet hers, his suddenly intimidating attention no doubt all it takes to request a further explanation of his captive.

"The stands…" she gestures, not seeing understanding light his eyes, "filled with people wearing black robes and tall pointed hats…" she raises an eyebrow, but still no comprehension is there… "make me think as if we're in an enchanted arena of some sort… expecting to be beset upon by some hungry lion for sport…" she trails off at the absolute confusion in his eyes.

 _How does she know this?!_ The crowd panics. _No_ _muggle should be able to see through the extensive warding we have here! Could she be a witch, then? But if so, why would she have fallen into his trap? (What a shame!) Surely she'd have known better! At least,_ _he_ _clearly can't see us_ , they assuage themselves, as in reply the vampire pulls his victim securely closer. _Appalled gasps. Beset upon by some hungry lion, indeed. If she can see us, then why can't she tell the lion is_ _him_ _?_

While comfortably caught up in his always-welcome gesture of protection, abruptly another of the pale cell occupants comes into her view… who similarly neither seems to be aware of anyone else in the vicinity, nor triggers a protective response from Edward. _Gasp, then disbelief._ "Can't you see him?!" with wide eyes she points out the burgundy-eyed vampire in the adjoining corral. "One of you," she quietly adds, abruptly ratcheting up his alarm.

Because he _isn't_ sensing _any_ of this, while another vampire in the vicinity is a threat he cannot ignore. Neither is it something she would joke about. _Panic!_ Could a talent be at play here? What else could it be?! Surely not just _one_ could be _this_ all-encompassing… which thought only makes the worry worse. But most of all: How can he keep her safe from someone(s) he cannot even sense in _any way_?!

As part of the internal process of frantically searching out every option, naturally he reviews her description of their unfamiliar environment. _An arena attended by persons dressed up like stereotypical witches or wizards. Is it possible magic is at work here? Potentially, that would explain a lot. Is magic_ _real_ _?_

All of a sudden, to his gratified astonishment, the very scene she had described opens up to all of his senses. There are _three_ other vampires in _very_ close proximity, all entirely unaware of each other, and a crowd full of magical humans who can hear _everything_ they say. Even as his fury surges at the sight, he knows the first thing he must do is to get her _out_ of there. And so, with a growl, he scoops Bella up in his arms and instantly runs straight out of the corral.

* * *

Screams and shouts of alarm rise up from the crowd behind them as he runs her out of sight, into the Forbidden Forest. His idea is merely skirt the perimeter far enough in to remain unseen, yet still be able to hear… as he looks for some suitable location the both of them can safely converse in without being overheard.

In his wake, naturally every witch and wizard is _terrified_. _A u-vampire at_ _large_ _?! How did he escape?! In this place none of us can apparate away from. The most_ _dangerous_ _predator of them all! Impermeable to magic spells. The thirstiest one in the_ _world_ _, even. Right in our back yard! Whom the wards couldn't hold! Death incarnate._ _This_ _cannot_ _be_ _!_ _How_ _did he get out of the corral?! We don't want to_ _die_ _! Get him back in there, where we can be_ _safe_ _again! Get him_ _back_ _in_ _there_ _!_

And suddenly, he is. Right back where they started from; his outstretched hands feeling strangely empty. One visibly shaken attending wizard had evidently repeated the original, magical summons… only this time, Bella was not transported with him. His arms are completely void of the warm and beloved form he had been carrying.

Desperately horrified and alarmed for an entirely different reason now, abruptly a much fiercer growl precedes his swift disappearance from the corral, as he heads as quickly as possible towards Bella's known location, in hopes of meeting back up with her before they foolishly try again. She's not safe here on her own! He can't _let_ them make him leave her to fend for herself! She's far too fragile for this unfamiliar place. She doesn't know the forest. And worst of all: she could have been seriously hurt just falling out of his arms.

Even so, despite his best efforts, before he can reach her they have blindly summoned the same for a third time… causing the panicked cries of the magical crowd to become oddly hushed and strangled behind him.

Because _he_ wasn't the one they got.

Some other vampire must have been thirstier than he, in that brief moment he wasn't in her delectable presence… since the only conclusion _they_ can now come to – that he must no longer be the _thirstiest_ because of having fed upon the poor girl in his arms – is most definitely _not_ the case.

Nevertheless, the horribly believable assumption makes them mortally afraid for his unknown whereabouts within the magical school's boundaries, even as the arrival of an older-looking and very different black-eyed male vampire in his stead – this time, sporting the roughened look of a nomad – has rendered the cause of trying to call him back again, completely out of the question. Their only recourse is to promptly notify those remotely waiting to safely summon the corralled subjects back into the muggle world, at the end of the task – so they can immediately call this fifth uncontained vampire from the midst of the Forbidden Forest (or wherever else on Hogwarts' grounds he might have run to; they'd know if he breached the outer perimeter), once and for all.

* * *

Meanwhile, Bella is just getting up from having been unceremoniously dropped on the ground… and, though she hasn't been hurt, she is a little worried that he dropped her at all. It's so very much _not_ like him to do.

By the time she has stood completely upright again, turning around ready to look for him – he is back at her side, and firmly holding her hand. _Because, someone thinks that might have been what made the difference, between whether or not she came with me or stayed behind: skin contact._

Unknown to all of them, in the desperation of not being separated again: this magically enlightened and powerful reunion blindly triggers their first bout of accidental enchantment – in such a way as will disallow any further summoning attempts directed at his person.

In the background, considerably shaky and much worse for the wear (especially in the case of the clearly youngest contestant he'd twice run past in order to exit the corral), all four champions are fearfully hard at work, struggling to finish the task set before them.


	3. Option 1: Unintended Spectator

_***** * * Option One: The Four Challenges * * *****_

 **Unintended Spectator**

After a good bit of calming skin contact (his arms around her and nose buried in her hair) and reassuring conversation (including an explanation of what actually is going on out there), all the while worrying over when the final anticipated summons was going to call him away with her again ( _because: since they didn't even imagine her to still be_ _alive_ _, he certainly couldn't let them abandon her to this dangerous place where they wouldn't even be_ _looking_ _into her protection!_ )… and even worse: _where_ it would take them when it did ( _What would happen, for instance, if they transported us to Antarctica? I wouldn't have any way to keep her warm!_ )… at last he decides it would be safest for her to relocate out of the forest, within range of where the agitated crowd is not-so-comfortably observing. Perhaps, if they could identify someone within it who was _trustworthy_ – very reluctantly letting go of skin contact would be a safer option than leaving the imminently expected transport to chance.

Thus, it isn't long before Edward & Bella have sneaked up into the stands carefully behind everyone in order to watch the event (irrevocable as it is once all the vampires have been summoned), and disapprovingly comment on the scene. All the while, never losing contact.

Meanwhile, in response to the supremely concerning update report that remote summoners have tried all manner of designations unique to the rogue vampire's location, and still been _unable_ to produce a result – the headmaster has initiated numerous local tracking spells in an effort to keep appraised of the vampire's movements within school grounds. Thus, Albus is magically and warily drawn to notice when the both of them appear at the top of the stands (triggering a spectacularly unprecedented double-take, to see her with him, being gently set down upon her feet…), and with shock ( _What does this mean?!_ ), promptly listens in more closely (via a discreetly localized spell) to get a feel for what is really going on. After all, her presence proves that she did _not_ become his meal to disqualify him from the original summons ( _doesn't it?_ )… suggesting that he might still be the thirstiest of them after all… and yet – not only is he handling her harmlessly (in fact: entirely comfortably, it would seem) and conversing with her freely (on the topic of _vampires_ no less, while she stands there unafraid), but he is not attacking _anyone_.

Briefly and with abrupt shock, as black eyes meet blue… unquestionably Albus _knows_ that the vampire is aware of his attention. But other than that he's not reacting, seeming instead to ignore the intrusion; perhaps inexplicably hoping not to create alarm, though he's been given every reason to do so. Unexpectedly confused, it's hard for Albus to know what to think. How to ensure the safety of his school?

As the unlikely couple continues what must have been an earlier conversation, the first thing Dumbledore overhears through his Listening Link… is the vampire's clear fury over the fact that "…they made me drop you."

Indeed, Edward has realized – with significant frustration – that the wizards are totally oblivious to the danger this action could have portended. Bella hasn't recognized it yet, either. This way both of them can understand. "If I had been _running_ at the time…" he quietly explains to her in clarification, though the ire in his voice is clear, "if I hadn't stopped merely a _half-second_ earlier than they summoned me again – _you_ would have been catapulted into the nearest _tree_. They nearly _killed_ you, Bella!" the growl in his voice softens and trembles with that final declaration, and his pain at the very _idea_ is clearly evident as he pulls her close. "…and at my hands," he whispers finally, into her hair, the low rumbling in his throat merely hinting at the surge of absolute devastation and fury this would have brought on.

"There's no _telling_ what I would have done to the lot of them in such a state," he warningly reveals to both pairs of ears, as he protectively and defiantly maintains skin contact with her, so that they _won't_ be accidentally separated again. She hugs him tightly. "But the most frustrating part of it all is that they don't even know that it would have been _all their fault_. They would have assumed that _I_ had done it… injured or _k-killed_ you…" he shudders, "and any subsequent act of well-deserved retaliation on my part – would have been chalked up as nothing more than the anticipated violence of uninhibited vampire nature. Nobody would have ever listened to _me_ ," he lapses into silence. "Not that it would have mattered anymore," he whispers as an afterthought, hugging her tightly.

"I'm alright; they didn't hurt me," she soothingly reassures him, and with his nod of acknowledgment, the vampire is comforted.

Momentarily following this, as they watch the tournament proceedings in enlightened calmness, Edward's comments become more and more clearly geared toward calling the wizards out on their foolishness. Their listening ear will eventually pass it along. "They need to amend their folly quickly, lest it comes back to _bite_ them," Edward observes, unwilling to make the challenge easier for those so ignorantly willing to endanger her life. Nevertheless, because their subjects don't deserve the inconvenience, he does inform them of where each was taken from when it crosses their minds (or, in lieu of that, what area the dialect of their thoughts points out their recent wanderings to be). At least, they'll be able to be released again somewhat reasonably close to home.

Not surprisingly, most of the corralled vampires are confused and annoyed by the mysterious and absolute interruption of their lives… though in apparent isolation, they're voicing none of this out loud. Only Edward can tell (and definitely _not_ disclose!) that the natural inclination is to believe another vampire's talent is at work. Undoubtedly, the lot of them would be seriously angry if it ever came to their attention that they were being treated like lab rats, by a magical subset of humans. Neither would anyone appreciate the wizarding world learning any more about them, than they can painstakingly find out on their own.

Consequently, further comments by Edward remain guarded when it comes to explaining about dangers the wizarding world wouldn't have known to consider. Only in relation to addressing the clear threat against Bella's safety – and secondarily, towards the specific interests of their unwilling captives – does he do so at all. Albus certainly can't blame him for the uncooperative attitude. On the contrary – astonished and pleasantly intrigued by what he's hearing in spite of it, as well as entirely thankful for the… _gift_ of what has been shared, the headmaster finds a way to inconspicuously relay any immediately useful information to the champions and unsuspecting wizards in charge.

First and foremost, it is significantly troubling to Edward that the new 'thirstiest' vampire has appreciatively noticed his and Bella's fresh scent inside the corral. In fact, it offers the _only_ (and quite appealing) lead he has for finding out who could be behind what change of scenery has unexpectedly taken place around him. Such an innocent but oh-so-dangerous association; the _last_ thing Bella needs is someone else hunting her! It's pure luck that he doesn't hail from anywhere nearby where they live.

Clockwise from his successor's warded pen, Edward can tell that the newest vampire (the only female among them, coincidentally matched up with the only female champion) hasn't actually _fed_ on anything yet (effectively keeping her from fully realizing what she _is_ ), and wonders if she might be amenable to trying out the animal diet before it's too late. _How many times has Jasper wished he'd been presented that option? It even sounds like she might have been changed for the same purpose. Even averse as Edward is, at this point, to giving the wizards a freebie – this is an opportunity that the incarcerated party might potentially appreciate._

"She doesn't know what she _is_!" he realizes to Bella, as well as to Albus. "She has no conscious desire to hunt anyone… or at least, not yet… which means she _might_ accept an animal instead… if her mindset will allow it." With a sigh he amends, "Not that it's likely."

When it becomes clear in the newborn's thoughts that the champion witch's initial attempt at providing sustenance is doomed to failure, in exasperation Edward quietly exclaims: "Oh, for heaven's sake. Not a _rabbit_! What do you think we are?!" Bella giggles next to him, and he smirks at her humor. "The least they could do is offer her something _remotely_ palatable," he reasons. "Give her something worth her interest," he directs: "A large predator." Presently the rabbit is replaced by a panther. "That's better," he finally approves.

Nevertheless, in her innocence, the newborn is not-at-all recognizing the animal as something that could be suitable to eat. Instead, now believing it could mortally wound her if it came too close, she keeps trying to run away from it in the small space… such that no gain is ultimately accomplished. "She's too afraid to realize what appeal it could have," Edward observes, "and it's not appealing enough to instinctually overcome her fear." _Maybe that's even a good thing,_ Edward reluctantly supposes, _because who is to say whether drinking even just_ _one_ _animal would allow her to see past their human-drinking-creature wards, as I did? (Shudder, at the mental image of her going ballistic on the mass of humans gathered all around.) I couldn't want that._

Meanwhile the 'oldest' vampire, an aged Chinese fellow still sitting in the meditative position he was summoned in – remains outwardly ignorant of every distraction his champion has sent his way, in the effort of getting him to _move_. Not even the twitch of an eyelash. Unabashedly amused by this happening within the expectant tournament setting, and entirely unwilling to disturb the gentleman's focus – Edward is intrigued by his thought processes… surprisingly enough to consider making a special trek out to meet him, one of these days in the not-so-far-distant future.

At last, Edward notes of the hungriest vampire that it seems his hunger takes the form of _revenge_. Because, of course, "we don't get hungry for _food_." It's a curious observation, which suggests that a simple shift in the summoner's attitude – from political to competitive, say – might have brought in an entirely different subject. This remarkably ancient one hails from Romania, and is quite perturbed about having been separated from his long-time companion. Not that his magical observers have any clue.

As the tournament progresses in this stalemate condition, despite each champion's very best efforts: everything significant that is _learned_ about any vampire subject ultimately is totally dependent upon what awareness _Edward_ is inclined to offer them, rather than any champion's ability to stimulate his charge to reveal something of their own accord. Eventually, the effort flops so badly that it has to be entirely aborted (and every vampire sent home [the fifth and his companion by discreet portkey, courtesy of Albus]) in shamefaced favor of reconvening at a later date for the first task to recommence with dragons in their stead. An extreme embarrassment for the wizarding world, and all but one newly enlightened member of the triwizard council.

* * *

 *** * * Option Two: No Barriers Between Them * * *  
**

In real time, rather than in the fleeting vision of some magical seer's mind, eventually the debating council realizes that keeping them all separated from each other is simply not going to work. What incentive would any of them have – or could a magically impermeable creature be given – to even just talk aloud? Let alone show the magical populace even a fraction of what secrets they have in store. The plain fact is that isolation severely cuts off the biggest avenue of learning available. And so, for this task to produce the valuable learning effect it was chosen for: grouping them all together is the only way to go.

Which is why, come Tournament day: each vampire will be simultaneously summoned into one large common area, into the corner nearest where their champion will be stationed.


	4. Option 2: Present Danger

*** * * Option Two: No Barriers Between Them * * ***

 **Present Danger**

Once again matched to each champion by luck of the draw (an increased nervousness between contestants and summoners causing them to unwittingly align somewhat differently than they otherwise might have), the vampires simultaneously summoned for them into a single round and generously warded pen are these:

...the youngest: consisting of _two_ vampires? The first a 20-somethingish Latin-American female with astonishingly _bright_ red eyes, laying on the ground with her arm extended to reach the second… a similarly bright-eyed and native male, somewhat rougher looking and not a lot taller, actively helping her up off the ground… _Which one is actually the youngest? It is impossible to tell. The summons must have brought them both because they were touching hands._

...the oldest: a remarkably spry-looking Asian great-grandfather, rather bald-headed it would appear, sitting calmly unruffled and immobile in a perfect pose of meditation, with his eyes closed;

...the hungriest: a tall, dark-haired, and handsomely middle-aged rogue in slightly roughed up dress clothing… carrying an appallingly half nude and clearly ravaged newly dead female victim;

...and the thirstiest: a surprisingly young and very good-looking copper-haired youth – easily the most refined of them all – appearing black-eyed, with _three_ similarly young and very much _alive_ muggle _humans_ in tow.

 _Chaos!_ Frantic, horrified screams from the magical onlookers express how hopeless and frightening the plight of those live muggles suddenly is destined to be – especially in light of the bloodless corpse that is their only example – if the champions can't figure out a way to _do_ something about this _immediately_. _No one_ coming to the tournament had expected to witness a massacre! Nevertheless, as the attentions of all four red-eyed vampires abruptly snap to the human party, then swiftly move to converge upon the black eyes that claim it… clearly it's too late to be anything but. _At least, they're only muggles_ , some are resigned to think.

* * *

Entirely oblivious to the maelstrom of thoughts swarming just beyond their carefully warded bubble, inside the corral Edward is painfully aware of the suddenly far-too-dangerous situation. Having been comfortably seated with Bella, Angela, & Ben at their lunchroom table barely a moment ago (awaiting Alice's late return), all at once he was the only one standing defensively alert as the rest of them fell onto their backsides in the soft grass, no longer having chairs underneath to support them… in this desperately exposed location. _How did we get here?!_ What in one second had been a lunchroom full of safely human voices within a town filled with benign background thoughts… in the next has become a pristine forest glade empty of all but the much more threatening presences directly before him and his delectable charges. _No! No, please! Four_ red-eyed vampires, each recovering from momentary shock, are turning to look straight at them, and there's _no_ place to hide. _This is far too real._

As he stands there in horrified fury, every sense is on high alert, taking in as much information as he can. Directly in front of him are the bright red eyes of two raw newborns, who – once they get a whiff of scent – won't be able to keep themselves from attacking at any moment. To his right a much more experienced fiend has just callously tossed away the plundered corpse of his latest victim, in favor of assessing this new opportunity. Already able to smell their party, the combination of flavor strikes him as uncommonly delicious in the _worst_ kind of way – since he seems to be able to _smell_ their innocence, and that proposition tempts him even more right now than does their blood. The fourth vampire, on his left – coincidentally the chronologically oldest one he's ever seen – has not moved out of the meditative position he had been in before being transported here, but is nonetheless assessing everyone as keenly as Edward is assessing them. Though he clearly feels the instinctual pull towards each human, his disciplined conscience will only act with purpose – and so, for the time being at least, he is keeping himself under control. _That's_ _something_ _, at least_ , Edward notes with wary gratefulness as his attention is called back to the newborns in front of him.

Barely two seconds have passed, and now a trace of human scent has reached the two bright-eyed predators. The fact that it came from the apparently bloodless crumpled heap behind them, unnaturally splayed in such a way as to leave no doubt as to her deceased condition – rather than from the startled humans before, gives Edward barely one more thorny moment to prepare for their advance.

Meanwhile, the rapacious thoughts of the vampire on his right have developed into something much too terrible to contemplate: he is plotting to take advantage of the newborns' distracting advance. _If both this boy and his attackers were to be disabled, or simply preoccupied by their fight as I took these humans far enough away,_ the demon reasons, _I could have my way with them in peace._ _Sounds easy enough._ _It's not as if they are any more than a meal to him anyway_ , he naturally assumes of Edward, _and those are so ridiculously easy to find. However, not every good meal makes a good toy as well; I can't let these go to waste_.

Crouching in defensive readiness, Edward's barely audible but fierce growl rumbles a quiet warning to every vampire: that he will defend his humans against an attack. Unfortunately, not having cause to know any better, all but the familiar humans behind him interpret the move as nothing more than an instinctual posturing to defend his meal. And, considering how the numbers overwhelmingly stand, a supremely unwise maneuver at that.

Inwardly, he's sick with panic. Even with the nature of his gift providing him a significant advantage over most any opponent, the simple fact that they could attack from _every_ direction in pursuit of his enticing and delicate companions – means that any _two_ of them could fatally circumvent his defense if they worked effectively together. Against three, one of which is most _definitely_ going to be working this to his advantage, how can he possibly keep them all protected?! There _has_ to somehow be a way! He cannot afford any slip. Yet, there are four.

As much as the aged grandfather has not plotted to join the attack, neither has his purpose made itself clear. Through his mind's eye, the relative lightness of every person's bluish aura is commanding the man's attention. He clearly has a gift of some sort; it must mean something to him. _The mature red-eye across the way appears ominously dark, much more so than is usual; a striking contrast to the black-eyed youth…_ he trails off in a tone of surprised incomprehension… _the likes of which I've never seen before_. Simultaneously he is drawn to the lightness of Edward's companions. _Most uncommon, but still within the typical range of their species…_

It has been three seconds from arrival, and both newborns have scented his party now. Edward is frantic with rage. Because: _two_ of them will be immediately attacking from the front… as the worst of them all sneaks in an attack from behind… and he _can't_ lose or otherwise allow _any_ of them to get past him to Bella! _Or_ , Ben and Angela.

 _Help!_ His fearsome growl of defensive rage is not inaudible to the humans now.

In the four seconds it has taken for all of these observations to be made and the attacks upon Edward's company to commence, it appears the elderly patriarch has also come to a decision. _This lopsided food fight is none of my business, but neither do I want to see anyone destroyed. Especially…_ By the time the two newborns have reached half-way to the humans' position… the spry old man has sprinted over to join them in the fray.

To Edward's immense surprise and _intense_ relief, the Chinese fellow has come to his _aid_ – mentally and physically orienting himself to take on _both_ of the newborns (the closest equivalent threat) so that Edward can focus on the dark one's attack. Both fights are of a type that no less than a well-seasoned fighter would be able to handle, but fortunately – their oriental companion is a master of the martial arts, calmly confident in his ability to do what needs to be done.

As the impromptu ally begins to quite capably deflect his opponents – just enough to keep them effectively at bay until they decide to settle or leave, without letting them reach past to threaten the humans – it is enough that Edward can focus the whole of his effort on the dark one's more cunning attack from behind.

* * *

In the eye of the sudden storm that is both protectors – one many yards out in front fighting two and the other closely behind, but each moving faster than their eyes can follow – all three human friends sit frozen on the ground in terror… sandwiched and dangerously exposed between the two fights.

As fierce growls, angry snarls and snaps, loud roars, and thundering _booms_ of collision surge around them with startling ferocity… tears of fright well up in both girls' eyes, as they try to watch the only defender any of them know. Hopefully identifying his position by the unique blur of his bronze hair, their gazes train toward the fight in the rear… even as Ben's head occasionally whips back and forth, not entirely sure which is which and vainly trying to watch them both. His face is etched in terror. Ben's and Angela's eyes are also open wide with uncomprehending shock; this is _so_ far beyond anything they know! So much for being able to help their friend… if this really still _is_ their friend…

As the two of them reach out to blindly grasp each other's hands, absolutely _needing_ the reassurance, another challenge is presented: is it possible that they could get over their shock enough to scoot even a little bit closer to Bella? Probably not, even if it theoretically would be slightly more defensible… as well as comforting, given that it's her _boyfriend_ out there. _Unbelievably._ She must be needing the support. None of them have missed, by now, the two pairs of glowing red eyes… unmistakably hungry for them amidst the melee. And the still, broken form across the glade, illustrating exactly what must be at stake… at the hands of beings far too powerful to contemplate. Clearly, there can be no compromise here… which brings them back to terror. _What is happening to Edward?!_


	5. Option 2: Introductory Threats

*** * * Option Two: No Barriers Between Them * * ***

 **Introductory Threats**

Having sped into position just in time to thwart the dark one's attack, it isn't until just now that Edward realizes this isn't only about the humans. Evidently the dark-haired vampire's craving for innocence extends to _any_ who have remained untouched… meaning that the smell by which it is identified brings him to appreciatively regard his adversary as well.

"You are birds of a feather, I see," the man taunts in his native west-Asian dialect… as he takes a step to the side, keenly assessing his opponent's skill. Edward's footwork shadows his precisely, causing the man's eyebrows to narrow; _this is going to be a tricky fight_.

Meanwhile, the fiend's thoughts unexpectedly relay that Edward's own scent is in fact what he finds most enticing – a much more attractive flavor than that omitted by any of his companions, even though the warm scent of their blood appeals in a most complementary fashion. It's because: the _older_ anyone's innocence, the more potently he smells it… making the villain wonder just how mature a vampire this handsome young man must be, in order to smell _so_ fine. The allure of this fact is disappointing, however, in combination with the youth's evident skill on the battlefield, as it means the boy would be incredibly difficult to take advantage of, in contrast to the ease any human represents. Ah, well; these three behind him have _both_ scents – as well as the gratifying promise of success – calling to him. It'll be enough to settle for hijacking the lad's gourmet dessert. _Maybe all I'll need to do his grab onto one of them as a shield, barely scratching one of them gently, and he'll fall prey to his own thirst... surely faster than I will. He's an impressive fighter, for sure, but I doubt he can counter my ruthlessly seasoned control; perhaps subduing this lad won't be so much of a problem. And if I'm already going to be ripping off his limbs in order to take the other two, maybe it'll be a piece of cake to have my way with the rest of him as well…_

"You will not touch them," Edward growls fluently in the man's language, to the surprise of his opponent. The man didn't expect anyone else here to know it, being not a widespread dialect. Edward can tell he is the only other here that does.

Quickly changing his approach, now that the gauntlet of taunt has been offered… in such a way as the others need _never_ know about… the Dark One chooses to verbally mock his rival as if he were a rapist too. Or at the very least, one endowed with an hypnotically compelling sexual prowess… that he shamelessly uses to his own advantage. _Close enough; with this one's looks alone, I'm sure he could easily pull it off. And in his innocence, in front of others – such a falsely wanton accusation should completely unhinge him. (Dastardly laugh.) The naïve are always so easy to get off balance._ Ultimately, the guy imagines, that if he won't be able to easily subjugate Edward in one way, perhaps he can preemptively win over his mind in another… making the fight a cinch to win in any case. _Ah, the sovereignty of being absolutely unscrupulous!_

 _Disgusting!_ Edward fumes, unable to find words horrible enough – from all of the languages he knows _combined_ – to encapsulate the _wrongness_ this vampire emanates. _Evil incarnate! Sickening._ The man is an innocence junkie; a rapist feeder of the grisliest kind… having obviously _far_ too much power in his hands. Eliminating him from society for _everyone's_ benefit, not just for the precious humans of his party, will be doing the world a favor.

As the fight escalates to a climax, the demon working systematically to exert every advantage he can over the boy's perceived state of mind, so that the tide will turn in his favor… Edward's purposeful silence goads him on (though not as much as his weakening desperation would have). Anxiously awaiting his snap, the degenerate is eagerly salivating to hear every word he'll say the moment he finally does. _He'll be waiting a long time,_ Edward privately calculates, his concentration total.

And finally, his unruffled response to every awful accusation that was made (clearly not so naïve as the fiend had imagined) makes for a good diversion. "I am guilty of many things, but _that_ is not one of them," he calmly offers, as he promptly tears off the Dark One's first limb. _Nor will it ever be._

The fight finishes very quickly after that, the dark one rapidly turning into a twitching pile of limbs… the last of which Edward lights up like a torch, before tossing it in with the rest. It turned out quite useful to have a lighter reserved for Victoria in his pocket. Exposed venom being a natural accelerant, the flame spreads swiftly… and at last he is free to join the other fight.

* * *

Coupled with the racing speed of all of their heartbeats in his ears, a peripheral peek of Bella tells him she must be absolutely _terrified_. Ben's and Angela's horror-stunted thoughts suggest it could be from not knowing whose body is in the flames, among other things. For their sakes, though not yet properly able to spare them further attention, Edward walks over to the other fight at only human speed, promptly hearing three breathy exhales of stunned relief – one sharper than the others – as he keeps his eyes vigilantly trained upon the newborns.

Thankfully, the old gentleman has been able to handle them quite effectively.

None of the three have been hurt. His effort was never to destroy, only to prevent. In the process of ensuring this, he's managed to command some degree of respect simply by nature of being an impressively capable fighter. Though the newborns haven't calmed, in the presence of the still overwhelming human scent, they have begun putting up a little less resistance. Every effort they've put forth heretofore to reach it, has been futile.

Already positioned defensively nearby, having moved his own fight strategically closer to theirs by the time it came to an end – _just_ in case – Edward doesn't have to walk far. Pausing next to his poised ally now – quite ready to join in against them and with the consuming image of flames reaching high into the sky behind his back – abruptly makes the defensive pair doubly intimidating. Both newborns unwillingly back down, she more readily than he (submissively dropping to her knees rather than staying standing), though she also seems to be less in control. As well as more confused. Part of her still doesn't understand why she's fighting. She's never fed before. She doesn't know what she is.

Now in close proximity for the first time, both mature vampires are naturally wary of each other – equally being strangers and clearly good fighters – yet have already noticed attractive elements of friendship between them. Remaining vigilant of their bright-eyed contenders, they respectfully exchange appreciative nods, and then names in cursory introduction. "Edward Cullen."

"Hě Chin." _ **(A/N:** pronounced with a soft, short 'e', not like the gender. **)**_

Contrastingly, the natural urges of newborn bloodlust make it very hard for the highly tempted Mexicans to rationally concentrate on any conversation.

Since it would not be possible to get the humans well-enough out of their range within the yet-unidentified endless forest that Edward can detect (certainly not without his ally holding them indefinitely at bay; an imposition entirely unfair to ask of a stranger), while still being able to guarantee their safety on his own were they to be followed by more than one (he can sense no scent-masking water features or otherwise better-defensible formations _anywhere_ in range), there is no advantage (and possibly a significant disadvantage) to trying to leave the scene.

Besides, there are additional concerns to be addressed now. _Whose talent was it that brought us all into such danger, and what else might it unexpectedly do? How can we solve the problem of exposure to everyone's satisfaction, without threatening my fragile companions?_ _Where even are we, and how best can I take them to safety?_ Needing answers to these questions, but not seeing any, he remains alertly tense – getting increasingly more so the longer he goes without recognizing a solution. Because: they're going to need the cooperation of the newborns to help them find it. And he wants to respect Hě Chin's effort to keep anyone else from getting hurt.

First things first: make Bella safe. _Her terror doesn't seem to have abated at all. Of course not; how could it? She just watched me kill a man… and she knows far better than Ben or Angela how much danger everyone is in. It certainly frightens_ _me_ _… I'm sorry, Bella._

And so Edward makes his position clear. Choosing to speak in simple Mexican Spanish, since he has recognized that the native newborns don't know English, the well-traveled grandfather is old enough to probably know it as well, and a simple version of the language is something his classmates should be able to translate on their own, he succinctly notifies every vampire: "These are _friends_ , not food." Pleased that the modern media reference, even if not clearly remembered by either of the young ones, seems to have helped to unconsciously establish his point… more importantly: the familiar mantra is the only kind of moral support he can safely offer to the humans behind him, who are so desperately in need of it. "If you make any attempt against them," he calmly warns each newborn in particular, "I will have to hurt you."

At this, the bright-eyed young man bristles. "You're _threatening_ us? Over a measly bunch of _humans_?"

Anticipation of such an attitude allows Edward to remain calmly in control. "On the contrary, I'm not threatening you at all; merely letting you know the facts. Whether or not you _heed_ them is entirely up to you." His serene demeanor contrasts starkly against the untamed wildness of both newborns, and begins to undeniably illustrate that his level of maturity is many times greater than theirs, though he looks clearly younger than them all. Not that they are in a stable enough mental position to notice this. At last, indicating the burning pile of vampire behind him with a shrug, a simple "he wouldn't," finishes the thought. _Translation: Given that it would be a death sentence to attack them, the choice is yours. If you value your existence, you'll leave them alone._

The newborn male is _not_ happy. "It's not as if we can let them _live_ ," he complains in his native Spanish, "with the Volturi out there." _And they smell entirely delicious._ "Surely you know this."

Edward knew this might be a problem, and it worries him… though he works to not let it show. In any case, it doesn't change his position. "If you choose to attack them, you won't have to worry about _that_ ever again." His voice is smooth and even, and absolutely serious.

"You would _kill_ us over them?" The sorely tempted man doesn't want to believe what he's hearing.

"If that was the only way to keep you from destroying: yes," Edward clarifies, without apology.

Finally the glowingly red-eyed man growls to himself, conceding the loss most unwillingly.

Following this exchange, with a little prodding their names are offered as well. _Javier. Ana Rosa._ Neither of whose thirst-dominated thoughts reveal awareness of any talent. _This is going to be difficult,_ Edward frets, disquieted.

Though it does bring back to mind – with wary gratefulness and much respectful appreciation – the most important fact that Hě Chin's thoughts have never once strayed toward seeking out the humans for himself. These are not the kind of humans he hunts. "You are not tempted," Edward vigilantly turns to him with admiring curiosity.

"Neither are you," the wise old grandfather returns pointedly, having noted the uncommon severity of Edward's thirst-blackened eyes. It's rare (if not _never_ ) that he's seen a vampire without even the slightest hint of red to offset the black, let alone exhibiting this degree of control. He's impressed.

Edward shrugs, diverting his gaze. "They're not my type."

"Neither mine," the aged master concludes helpfully, mentally acknowledging what blackened human auras _are_ his type. Truly, they embody the very worst of society, according to what stories he's heard… even if far too often they are not the ones imprisoned for being so. The Dark One would have been a prime candidate for his diet, had he been human… such that he's not inclined to be bothered at all by the man's now deceased state, at the hand of another. Given the teenage vampire's remarkably light aura, strikingly outstanding even without the blatant contrast, he wonders after Edward's habits.

With a slight smile and bow, Edward silently salutes his choice.


	6. Option 2: Talent Search

*** * * Option Two: No Barriers Between Them * * ***

 **Talent Search**

By now, knowing as well as Edward does that a vampire's talent appears to be the only way they all could have come into this indecipherable situation, Hě Chin is similarly interested in discerning whatever talents may exist within their little group… one essence fewer than it started out with. Of course, the very fact that Edward brought humans here with him – whom he has worked very diligently to defend against deadly odds – conclusively suggests that the key talent in question, would _not_ be his.

Nevertheless, as Edward's battle had moved closer, there'd been occasion enough to notice how extremely capable of a fighter the lad apparently is – able to anticipate moves like he's never seen before – and, suspecting an ability may be involved, wondered how he knew to move like that. "I've never witnessed a more _capable_ sparring style," the accomplished master notes keenly, pleased that it had been enough to help the youth win against the dark man. _Almost as if he could tell what his opponent was going to do before he did it._ "How do you manage that?"

Edward's lips purse, deciding how best to answer his question. He has no problem revealing the answer to his intriguing new friend, but the newborns don't need to know this. Neither is it something he likes to advertise. "How did _you_ know why I was fighting?" he counters.

 _That's a good question_ , Hě Chin acknowledges silently, knowing his own talent is the answer. Edward must be just as curious about him…; the old man smiles. At the same time, it's also an astute question… perhaps offering a clue in itself. _Might his answer be the same, then? That sounds affirmative. Could he somehow know what my talent is?_ His interest is piqued by that idea. _Did he specifically word his question this way on purpose?_ His eyes assess Edward's circumspect expression probingly, still speculating.

 _If so, then would he have known if his opponent had such an ability?_ His mind perks up at the thought. _In all seriousness, if the Dark One was the one who brought us here,_ he worries, _that might make it a bit difficult for us all to get safely out. Surely he must have considered this?_ "Do you think…" he begins concernedly, "the burning one could have brought us here?"

"No," Edward replies at once, in a firm but oddly weary voice, unhappy with the facts that made it necessary to take _anything_ so far as a pile of burning limbs… all in front of his human friends. Still, here's an opportunity to provide another small clue of his own. "His talent was the ability to smell innocence."

" _Smell_ innocence…?!" the aged master repeats in appalled shock, suddenly looking sick. As he and the others all glance briefly at the human corpse the man had carelessly tossed away, it is horrifically clear what he _did_ with that knowledge. Images of his much-loved human daughters and their well-lived descendants flit across the old grandfather's mind in protective alarm, and he is glad this threat is alive no longer. He could not stand that for them. _But, how would the lad have known about this?_ his speculation resumes. _Of what nature is his gift?_ "Did… he tell you this?" he questions doubtfully, recalling the indecipherable foreign words he'd heard them converse in. _It doesn't strike me as the kind of ability one would choose to advertise._

Edward's lip twitches, and instead of Spanish, he switches to speaking a certain northwestern dialect of Chinese for the first time. _So as not to give myself away to anyone else._ "Not exactly…"

Abruptly, Hě Chin's face lights up with surprise, and then with unexpected excitement, as he replies in the same flowing lingo of his native tongue. "You speak _Lanyin Mandarin_?!" _Of the same local flavor as my own roots, even! This is no accident._

"Yes," Edward replies, only to him.

"How did you even know my local dialect?" the fascinated Master prods in Chinese, as the rest of their associates remain confused. _He was the first one to speak in the newborns' native tongue as well,_ he now recalls, _before they ever said a word_. _I wonder what his natural language is._

"The same way I know you see blue fields," Edward informs privately.

Hě Chin is surprised, but not entirely. "I have not revealed this," he keenly notes.

"Not publicly," Edward acknowledges.

 _Which means, you can see in private,_ the old gentleman concludes.

Edward nods discretely, by looking at the ground for half a second (as if in thought), and then back up.

"I see…" Hě Chin finishes, in thoughtful awe.

* * *

Behind the scenes of their conversation, entirely unknown by any vampire, the champions are attempting to fulfill their tasks… now including protecting every human as much as possible… though they are having difficulty thinking of options that wouldn't put either the muggles or themselves in greater danger.

Cedric, Hogwarts' older contender, initially tried creating a portkey to place within reach of the humans, before being reminded that authorization was required before any such item would work upon Hogwarts' grounds. The problem was, that no matter how cleverly it was placed – _any_ enchantment which could potentially transport a vampire out of the pen and into their midst, if he happened to be touching any of them at just the right moment, was not a viable option. So then, a chameleon-like form of blended disguise it had to be. If each of the muggles could be convinced to touch one of the three little stones provided, he or she would become protectively undetectable to all of the five senses. Then, perhaps, in combination with either shrinking them tiny or making them float out of tactile detection, a personal portkey would be authorized?

To this end, each stone had a simple message written upon it, inviting: 'Touch me', as if it were an Alice-in-Wonderland promise to bring them into somewhere safer. However, the muggle first to notice was the same who kept watching around herself in fearful alarm – looking straight at the crowd in the most eerie fashion, as if she could somehow see past the warding – and apparently didn't trust either the object or their efforts (especially once various spectators started chanting for her to 'take it'), so much that she deterred her friends from ever making contact with the friendly little stones.

Meanwhile, courtesy of the Beauxbatons champion, a generous patch of garlic had silently sprung up around the humans' feet… in an effort to provide some measure of protection. No one knew if it would be effective, but every little bit helped. And since no revelation any vampire offered on their own could count toward a champion's score anyway... unless it were made specifically in response to that champion's effort... well, there were plenty more ideas where that came from. _A small cemetery of sharpened wooden crosses popping up amidst the garlic, check; a spring of holy water bubbling up to its left, check… Something's got to work!_

Durmstrang's champion had imagined providing animals by transfiguration, as a suitable and maybe protective alternative to the humans' blood… even if it was a long-shot in the dark that the herbivorous variety timid enough to not even threaten a muggle – could ever hope to tempt them away from their natural food source. _So far, none of the vampires have even seemed to_ _notice_ _the offered prey, though there is no doubt that they noticed every human. Maybe it's because the little buggers keep bolting to the fringes, constantly trying to run straight out of the pen? Or are they just too common to find in a forest? Perhaps if I transformed a few larger specimens, at least one of them would have some dietary appeal? Would any large wild prey species, whether extinct or extant, be safe around muggles? How big is too big?_

Simultaneously, Harry had erected a number of invisible shield spells in defense of the muggles, during the fight… though not one of them had ultimately been tested against a vampire, to his astonishment. Now they were simply standing dormant, and there remained the significant chance they would prove to be wholly inadequate, if push came to shove. But he'd had to try! _Okay, so what else can I possibly come up with to keep them safe?_

Alongside the champions' desperate efforts, the wizarding community remains shocked and dumbfounded by the stance the most thirsty (as well as civilized and young-looking; he could have been a student here!) of them all has taken on the humans' behalf… not to mention also the oldest one who is helping him. In spite of every terror inspired by the scene, a few of the witnesses can't help but be impressed by what they're overhearing, all while the vampires remain oblivious. Unexpectedly, the two who look most young and old among them seem to be regarding each other as equals, acting clearly respectful and mature, while the brightest-eyed middle-aged adults (one of whom really _is_ the youngest, according to the summoning spell) are being treated – and acting – like children. It's all rather confusing.


End file.
